


i'm known as a right hand slugger

by sunnysidedown



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Chocolate, Ice Cream, M/M, Post-Canon, Professional Exy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnysidedown/pseuds/sunnysidedown
Summary: Andrew is on a completely different wavelength.





	i'm known as a right hand slugger

**Author's Note:**

> _i'm know as a right hand slugger,  
>  anybody else wanna touch my lover?_
> 
> Title taken from [Adore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-IoluTnuKs) by Amy Shark.
> 
> I would call this PWP but there's no porn.

The shrill sound of the referee’s whistle stopped the current play. Mostly. In the middle of the court, the opposing team’s defensive dealer was tangled with their striker Brian. The referee blew the whistle again and two more referees jumped into the fray to break up the players.

The thing about the goalie position on court is that the goalie sees all. Or they’re supposed to or they wouldn’t be a very good goalie. And Andrew is a very, good goalie. He didn’t miss the way the opposing team’s striker took advantage of the referees’ distraction to take a cheap shot at Neil.

Andrew’s face twitched. Neil was fine. He got up quickly and would have thrown back but the referee seemed to sense his anger and blew the whistle again. Andrew rolled his eyes. Referees and their damn whistles.

Neil got his revenge by scoring twice in quick succession, solidifying their lead with only two minutes left on the clock.

The other team’s attempts at narrowing the point gap were pathetic. The striker got three shots on the goal but Andrew blocked them all. The striker had a tell. His feet always pointed in the direction he was going to shoot but his eyes looked in the opposite corner. It took Andrew two shots to figure it out. And if the deflected balls happened to end up near the striker’s feet, well Andrew was good a blocking, not necessarily aiming.

The buzzer went off and the team gathered at half court to celebrate. Andrew removed his gloves and unclipped his helmet as he watched from the goalie box. Neil turned his head his way smiling. Their eyes met and Neil detached from the jumble of players to make his way towards Andrew.

“Don’t look too happy there, love. People might think you enjoy this.”

“Exy? Never.” Andrew replied leaning on his racquet.

Neil laughed and it was a beautiful thing. “Don’t worry, I know. I’m just saying if these refs ever learned to watch the players and not the ball you’d be benched within the first minute of the half.”

Andrew didn’t say anything as Neil continued. “I know this game must have been a little boring for you, their offensive squad is just so... bad, but next game should be a good one. It’s against Kev’s team.”

They began walking towards the exit, the last ones to leave as they were instructed. The rest of their team were being hounded by reporters on the pathway from the arena to the locker rooms. They miraculously slip by without being stopped which was a good thing and probably something their PR manager thought up.

“A few of the guys are gonna head out for drinks after dinner, wanna go?” Neil asked.

 “Sure,” Andrew shrugged.

* * *

A few of their teammates already had a table at the hole-in-the-wall diner Andrew and Neil stopped by for dinner, but they opted for one in the back corner.

They settled in and ordered. Neil was on his second glass of water before he finally asked, “You’re awfully quiet today, something on your mind?”

Andrew didn’t realize he lost his words until he tried to remember the last time he talked. He didn’t have much to say in the first place but maybe Neil could give him some new insight. “If you had to, would you rather give up chocolate or ice cream? As in, never eat it again.”

Andrew tried not the react at the face Neil made. It was a mixture of confusion, exasperation, and intrigue and it made small dimples appear on his right cheek.

“Our nutritionist would be so happy, but one thing first. That,” Neil grimaced. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about all day? Really?”

Andrew took a bite of his meal.

“During the game too! Andrew! You’re supposed to be focusing on exy!”

“Answer the question Josten.”

Neil rolled his eyes but stopped to contemplate his answer.

“What I’ve come up with so far,” Andrew started. “Is that whichever one you give up you would end up giving up a little of the other.”

“I kinda get it, but go further.”

“You see giving up chocolate would also mean giving up ice cream that contains chocolate like rocky road, mint chocolate, and plain chocolate ice cream. Giving up ice cream would mean giving up those same flavors but without losing things like brownies and hot chocolate and chili.”

“Chili?”

“Rounds out the taste.”

“Okay but does sherbet, sorbet, and frozen yogurt count as ice cream?” Neil asked pushing his empty plate aside to lean forward on the table.

“I thought about that as well, I think as long as it doesn’t contain milk then it’s not counted. So sherbet and yogurt are out, but sorbet is not.”

The waiter came by with a dessert: apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. They paused their conversation as Neil took the first bite and then gave the rest to Andrew.

“Hmm, I would give up chocolate.”

* * *

A few drinks at a bar led to a small tour of the local haunts that ended with them at a club.

“I’m going to get more drinks.” Neil yelled over the pounding music. “You want anything?”

Andrew lifted his hand and twirled his finger in a circle signifying another round of the same. Neil nodded and left towards the bar while Andrew watched the table.

The rest of their teammates disappeared onto the dance floor. It was reminiscent of when they would go to Eden back in college minus the headache of corralling three blackout drunks home for the night.

“You having fun, Bud?” Brian plopped down in the seat Neil had vacated. His hair was messily spiked and his face shined with sweat.

“I can’t tell which is worse: this or playing exy.” Andrew answered.

Brian tilted his head back and laughed. “You’re always a riot Minyard. I got the table if you wanna go get more drinks. Where’s Josten by the way? You two are usually attached at the hip at these sort of things.”

Andrew didn’t feel inclined to answer. He left to see what was taking Neil so long.

“Get me a Chuck Norris!” Brian called after him.

Despite his height, it wasn’t too difficult to find Neil in the crowd. He was already making his way back from the bar, arms loaded with drinks. A few beer bottles, a couple glasses of ice teas, some shots, it was a wonder that the bartender didn’t give him a tray for easier transport.

Andrew felt like he was in an exy match the way he spotted that opposing team’s striker as he approached Neil. They exchanged a few words with Neil’s body language becoming more tense the longer they talked. The striker must have said something particularly bad because Neil changed. It wasn’t hard to notice the subtle shift in Neil’s posture. The way his shoulders straightened out, how his eyes turned sharp, losing their open friendliness, the way his easy going smile turned to freshly sharpened knives.

It took Andrews breath away.

Neil moved most of his weight onto his left and Andrew decided that now would be a good time to step in or else deal with a mess of alcohol and glass on the floor.

In two quick steps Andrew was behind the striker. He tapped the man’s shoulder and the moment he turned to face him was the moment he punched him.

The reaction from the crowd was immediate. A circle formed around them. Space that wasn’t there before in the crowded club mysteriously appeared. Bystanders jeered for the fight to continue. Unfortunately for them, the striker seemed to already be down for the count.

A shrill voice cut through the chatter. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry about him!” It was the defensive dealer from the striker’s team. By her side was one of the goalies. “He can be such an ass sometimes.” She bent down to help the goalie lift him up.

“Though did you really have to resort to violence?” The goalie piped in.

Andrew walked over by Neil while wiping some dust from his eye with his middle finger. “Not my problem. Teach him some manners.”

The two huffed and dragged the striker from the area.

“I would have been fine.” Neil said.

“You were two seconds away from dropping the drinks.” Andrew took one of the shots in Neil’s hands and downed it. “I think I changed my mind.” He gave Neil significant look. “I would give up ice cream. Hypothetically, of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone ever know what is going on in Andrew's mind at any given moment? The answer is no.
> 
> Honestly, I only wrote this because I wanted Andrew to punch someone.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
